Gypsy of Spirits: Prequel to So Fell the Sparrow (7 page)

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Authors: Katie Jennings

Tags: #romance, #ghost, #medium, #Spirit, #Gypsy

BOOK: Gypsy of Spirits: Prequel to So Fell the Sparrow
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GRACE DECIDED NOT
to disable the hour strike on the old grandfather clock. Part of her hoped she would get used to the sound in time.

She regretted that decision when the clock struck three a.m. and violently shook her out of a deep sleep.

Gong. Gong.
Gong.

Each slam of the pendulum was a fist pounding viciously into her chest, square over her heart, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her eyes flew open from the horrid pain, wide with terror and wet with unshed tears. Sweat beaded on her face, cold and slick, matting strands of her dark bangs to her forehead.

She fought to catch her breath as the echoing of the final gong drifted into oblivion. The sheets were tangled up with her legs, constricting her as she fought to free herself.

What the hell was that? A dream? A nightmare?

Her head began to pulse with a dull pain. The pressure in her chest faded as her blood cooled and her senses came back to her.

She stared around the quiet bedroom, lit only by thin streaks of moonlight that came through the window. The branches of a nearby tree left twisted, spindly shadows along the wooden floor. They looked like crooked, deformed arms, stretching and reaching out to grab at her like some malevolent monster. When the breeze outside shifted them, it broke her trance and jolted her back into awareness.

“Get a hold of yourself,” Grace whispered, rubbing her face with a heavy, burdened sigh. She fought to convince herself that nothing was out to get her. The nightmare had simply been a result of too much stress and a little too much wine.

Her depression likely didn’t help, either. The black cloud followed her wherever she went, hanging over her head like a bad omen. A scar. A blemish on the beautiful person she once was.

Grace knew she would never be that person again.

A soft sound permeated the silent darkness of the house, alarming her. Her ears perked as she listened, hoping to hear it again. When she did, her hands tightened on the sheet she held.

Was that…crying?

Unable to resist, she slipped from her bed quietly, reaching for her slim can of pepper spray. She tiptoed over the ancient wood floor, wincing each time it creaked and groaned beneath her.

At the door, she stared out into the darkness of the hallway. Ahead, the banister and the stairwell opened to the moonlit entryway. Her eyes strained to see in the pale blue light but caught no movement.

Grace let out a bitter laugh as she loosened her death grip on her pepper spray, realizing how stupid she was being. There wasn’t anyone in the house. How could there be? And if there were, what reason did they have to be there? She had nothing worth stealing. No flat screen television, no valuable jewelry. Unless they were there to hurt her. But if they were, why were they crying?

Resigned that she was being pathetic, she started back into her room. The return of the soft crying sound stopped her dead in her tracks. It sounded like it came from downstairs in the entryway. Curiosity gave her courage as she stalked forward with purpose, this time flicking on the light in the stairwell to illuminate the space.

She stepped down the stairs, eyes shooting from one corner to the other, searching for whoever made the sound. If she wasn’t mistaken, it sounded like a little girl. But how was that possible?

Seeing nothing, she shook her head and decided she really
was
being stupid. And probably losing her mind too. It had most likely been a bird or a cat outside, or perhaps she was just making things up to get upset about. That’s what Rick seemed to think. Every time she got mad at him or felt anything other than joy he seemed to think that she was exaggerating and creating chaos for herself.

That was the
last
time she’d ever date a psychologist.

She tried to let her cynicism over the disastrous relationship harden the pain only to fail miserably. It all came back like a rushing tidal wave, and it took all she had to not crumble to her knees.

She clutched at her chest and frantically climbed the stairs, desperate to lie down. The dizziness slowed her, and her vision blurred as she stumbled into her bed.

Crawling under the covers, she pulled them over her head and waged war on her emotions. She went at them, guns blazing, armed to the teeth and violent in her fury. But the fury could only carry her so far as images of her parents, smiling and happy, flashed through her mind. Of Rick, irresistible with that boyish grin, proposing to her on the rooftop of Willis Tower. Her friends and coworkers, surprising her with a lavish party for her birthday several months ago. It all flew by her like a movie reel, and it was impossible to make it stop.

Until it turned on her. Painful, horrible memories replaced the good ones, overwhelming her with a harsh, brutal ache. The phone call that had delivered the news of death. The caskets that held her parents being lowered into the ground. Discovering Rick in bed with her best friend on the day of the funeral. Succumbing to the grief while turning in her vacation notice at the hospital. The humiliation of falling apart in line at the grocery store. The compelling urge to run—run far away and never look back.

Wasn’t that what she was doing? She had run to Mad Rock Harbor to escape it all. Did she intend to ever return to Chicago?

Grace found she had no answer to that question, not at that moment. Instead, she inhaled deeply, her throat aching and her head pounding with pain as exhaustion claimed her. She settled into it, accepted the relief it promised, and plunged into a restless sleep.

Downstairs, the tearful sounds of sorrow faded into the night.

 

 

 

Cover design by Katie Jennings

 

eBook book design by

Blue Harvest Creative

www.blueharvestcreative.com

 

 

 

Also By Katie Jennings

 

The Vasser Legacy Series

When Empires Fall

Rise of the Notorious

 

The Dryad Quartet Series

Breath of Air

Firefight in Darkness

A Life Earthbound

Of Water and Madness

The Dryad Quartet Special Edition

 

Other Titles

So Fell the Sparrow

(Available November 21, 2013)

 

 

 

 

Nothing can compare to the exhilaration of discovering, at last, a mode of release for the imagination. Mine came, after years of struggling to visualize my creativity, in the form of the written word. I found myself with my nose constantly in a book, absorbing the life of the characters and the beauty of the setting. It was intoxicating, to say the least, and the only thing I knew was that I wanted to give writing a shot, and take the thousands of characters and storylines in my head and put them down on paper and form them into something real and compelling.

In truth, I’m just a girl from a small town north of Los Angeles with an imagination for days and thank goodness a keyboard at my fingertips. And even though my husband thinks I’m a nerd and my mom is undoubtedly my biggest fan, at the end of the day I’m loving life and enjoying giving breath to the characters living in my heart and sharing with others all of the creativity I can harness.

I believe in true love and I’ve always believed in happy endings. And that is just the beginning of the story.

 

 

 

 

Visit the author at:

www.katieajennings.com

www.facebook.com/authorkatiejennings

www.twitter.com/dryadquartet

www.katieajennings.wordpress.com

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Information

Beginning Quote

Gypsy of Spirits

Sneak Peek: So Fell the Sparrow

So Fell the Sparrow: Prologue

So Fell the Sparrow: Chapter One

So Fell the Sparrow: Chapter Two

Design Credits

Also By Katie Jennings

About the Author

Visit the Author

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